


Well Practised Hands

by blazed_pipe_dream



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Gay, Gay Sex, I still don't know if I actually ship this but I've wrote three fics about it, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Ravinsky, Smut, handjob, handjob without actually mentioning a penis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:49:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazed_pipe_dream/pseuds/blazed_pipe_dream
Summary: Kavinsky was anything but gentle - Ronan was okay with that.





	Well Practised Hands

Kavinsky pressed a hand to Ronan's abdomen to push his back to the wall. His lips quickly found Ronan's, parting them with force. He was anything but gentle - Ronan was okay with that. He reached out to run a hand through the other boy's already messy hair but, using his spare hand, K pushed it back to the wall next to Ronan's head. Taking his hint, Ronan put both of his hands behind his back where they wouldn't get in his way. K still had his warm hand pressed against Ronan's stomach.

Kavinsky's lips tasted like the Barn and memories and growing up, cigarette smoke and alcohol and the future, and Ronan kissed him like he was his oxygen supply. It didn't take long for their kisses to escalate into something more and soon Kavinsky pressed his soft lips to Ronan's neck, biting roughly against the tattooed skin. Ronan's heart was racing in his chest; he was sure that Kavinsky could feel it where his hand was pressed against the taller boy's stomach.

Forcefully, K's mouth was back on Ronan's, the kisses the two shared now more open-mouthed and messy. Ronan pulled his head back just slightly, taking in Kavinsky's appearance. His normally spiked hair was tousled; the chain he wore around his neck was long forgotten, discarded somewhere that Ronan didn't care to think about. K searched his face for a short moment before kissing him again. His teeth grazed across Ronan's bottom lip in the gentlest move he'd pulled all make out session. Slowly, Ronan moved his knee up to rub it against the denim that separated them. He rewarded the boy with a stifled moan that came out as almost a whimper.

Ronan blindly reached down, trailing his hand across K's muscular lower abdomen as he tried to find the belt. Kavinsky didn't make any sound to hint that he wanted it, but he didn't push Ronan's hands away either. Their eyes met, stormy grey on ocean blue; he gave a small nod. Ronan found his belt and undid it in one fluid, well-practiced move.

Kavinsky moved his mouth against Ronan's, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss while he impatiently pushed the hands near his crotch away to undo his own trousers. With K's hand off Ronan's stomach, he could breathe again. Once he had undone his trousers, his hand led Ronan's back to where it had been before.

Like the way they shared kisses, Ronan wasn't gentle with him, to the point that it was almost painful. Kavinsky's breath was hot and fast on Ronan's lips, one of his hands back to its resting place on the other boy's abdomen, pressing his back to the cold wall, and his other holding Ronan's hip. The only noise that filled the room was the soft sound of skin against skin and breathing so fast it was almost a pant, mixed with the rare whine or groan.

Ronan could tell Kavinsky was close when he groaned against his lips. Even just the sound turned Ronan on. He wanted more of K, more than he could possibly give. After another short moment, he gently bit Ronan's lower lip to show he wanted to speak. Ronan pulled away, his head hitting against the wall, to let him talk but he didn't slow down his pace at all. He was going so fast that his wrist was beginning to ache. 

"Lift up your shirt," Kavinsky ordered, his voice a little hoarse. His lips looked red and swollen; in the back of his mind, Ronan knew his looked much the same.

"My shirt?" Ronan repeated. Like K's, his voice didn't sound like his own. 

"I don't want to stain it," K explained. Ronan understood what he was saying and pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his stomach. His tattoo snaked on to his chest, a mass of thick black lines. Kavinsky forced his mouth against Ronan's again just as he let out a strangled moan. Ronan waited while K rode out his high, his hand still holding the other boy but barely moving; Kavinsky pushed it away and pulled his shirt off by the back of the neck to clean up the mess he had made. He did his trousers back up nonchalantly, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. Ronan attempted to help him, but K pushed my hands away. Instead, Ronan just pressed his lips back against K's.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, sorry I literally don't write anything ever. My wifi at home blocks ao3 (rightfully so, since all I ever post is porn) so I have to wait until I'm on holiday to post anything. Please comment if you notice any errors I've made, or if you enjoy my writing and would like more. Thank you!


End file.
